Working the Rota
by Geek1
Summary: A brief glimpse into the future ....maybe? GS


Title: Working the Rota.  
  
Author: Geek  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. etc.  
  
Notes: They say write what you know about..so I did.  
  
Summary: A brief glimpse into the future maybe? G/S.  
  
Thanks to Karen for being the best beta!  
  
He stumbled through the front door, his arms weighed down as he closed the door behind him with his foot, hearing his name called from the kitchen.  
  
"That you Gil? Lunch is nearly ready."  
  
He sniffed, smelling the rich aroma of homemade bread and soup. Even after 4 yrs together, they were still the only things she could successfully make. He thought of all the times he'd seen *that* look in those dark brown eyes, daring him to make a single comment on how what she had cooked looked or tasted. Just thinking about it brought a smile to his face.  
  
Sara's expression matched his, as she smiled her familiar gapped-tooth smile at him when she saw what he was carrying,  
  
" Oh, a busy morning I see." Her smile turned into a wide grin; the one he loved so much. " Well, you don't look like you had too tough a time." Seeing his pained expression she laughed out loud. "Oh, come on! How bad could it have been?"  
  
" Just get me some coffee and my migraine pills. Do you have any idea of the decibel level in that place?" he asked in all seriousness, as he deposited his load onto the counter. His blue eyes twinkled as he ran a hand over the greying curls of his hair, massaging his scalp.  
  
" Hey, I deliberately chose you a quiet morning, so don't complain."  
  
" You call that quiet?"  
  
" Well, you didn't have to go. I'd have gone instead, but it was you he wanted. And look at it this way - you won't have to do it again"  
  
At that exact moment a small tornado in the shape of a blue-eyed blonde 3- yr-old boy, with the soft curls of his father, ran full pelt down the passageway and into the room.  
  
" Ooh, we had clay today. I made a monster and a dog and a space ship and a worm!" he proudly announced. "And Daddy made a ladybug!"  
  
Grissom pointed to the counter. The child continued.  
  
" And I did a painting for you and one for Uncle Nicky and one for Uncle Warrick," he paused for breath," but I didn't do one for Lindsey 'cos she trod on a worm!"  
  
Again Grissom pointed toward the pile on the counter. The boy continued, seeming to need to breathe only once every minute.  
  
" And I did a drawing for Aunt Cath, but it's a worm so Lindsey won't like it, and Daddy drew you!"  
  
Sara looked at the counter. " Well I guess Daddy remembered to bring it all home." she said smiling at her young son. " Sit up now and we'll have some lunch, and Daddy can tell me all about it."  
  
As they sat at the table eating, the boy continued to fill his mother in on his morning. " Well," he began, drawing a long breath, "first Daddy didn't know where to hang the coats up, then he forgot to sign the book and the teacher had to tell him what to do."  
  
Sara looked at Grissom and raised an eyebrow. " Well, I bet that was a new experience for you, having to be told what to do!"  
  
" Actually I did know what to do." he said. "The pair of you have been drilling me for days! I just didn't know where they were!"  
  
The child looked at Sara, who winked at him, and giggled. "Daddy got told off too!"  
  
Grissom squirmed in his seat. "I did not get told off."  
  
His son looked at him with wide saucer-sized eyes. "Well, teacher told you to sit on the chair, just like she told Jamie, and he'd been pulling Jessie's hair!"  
  
" Well, I never had you down as a hair puller, Gil!" Sara laughed.  
  
He looked at her and smirked. "I could be tempted."  
  
Oblivious, the boy carried on. "It was because instead of reading the story properly, he kept saying it was wrong, that they don't do that."  
  
"That who don't do what, sweetie?" Sara asked as she gently put a spoon in her son's hand. "Use the spoon, please. You don't eat soup with your fingers."  
  
" Woodlice do not skate in sinks, nor do butterflies apply makeup, or centipedes cut their toenails." Grissom answered sheepishly.  
  
Sara looked up. "No wonder she told you to sit on the chair! It's a story Gil. For children. It doesn't actually have to make sense."  
  
He just looked at her, and shook his head. "And how will they learn what's real if they get silly stories like that?"  
  
It was Sara's turn to shake her head. "Honestly," she said, "sometimes I think you're a hopeless cause. They have other books too, if you bothered to look for them. Factual books. But I know the book you mean. Beetle in the Bathroom, right?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes, that's the one."  
  
She decided to change the subject. Turning to her young son, she asked, "So what else did you do today?"  
  
He looked up at her, and gave her a bright, soup stained grin. " We had the climbing frame and made it into a pirate ship. We got eaten by sharks and had to walk the plank. Daddy didn't walk the plank, but teacher did. She got eaten and had to go to hospital for new legs! And then we hid in the tunnel until all the sharks were gone and . . ."  
  
" Daddy didn't walk the plank?" She looked at Grissom. "Why ever not?"  
  
" He said he couldn't fit." He lowered his voice to a whisper so that she had to lean in close, her dark hair falling across her face as she did so. " But he could really. He just didn't want to play! May I get down now Mommy?"  
  
She checked his soup bowl, and seeing it was empty, agreed. He ran off with her call of " Go wash your face!" ringing in his ears.  
  
" So Gil. You had to be shown what to do, asked to sit on the chair for spoiling the story and were too cowardly to play pirates . . . anything else you'd like to share?"  
  
" Well, I found out why he's so cross with Lindsey about that worm." he said defiantly. "The kids found a worm. One of them went to fetch the teacher while the others guarded it."  
  
" Ok, now I'm confused."  
  
"So was I, until I watched what happened. They all squatted down and looked at the worm, and talked about what it might feel like to be one, and how we shouldn't squish them because we wouldn't like it if someone trod on us. Then the teacher, whose name I forget, picked it up and took it over to a patch of earth, so it'd be safe." He smiled at her. "Apparently they also do emergency treatment for bumble bees."  
  
They were interrupted by the sound of a chair being dragged across the room, "Young man, if you're climbing on chairs to look at my butterflies again, I'm going to send Mommy to see to you!" Grissom yelled out. " You know that you mustn't touch those cases. They might fall."  
  
After a second or two of silence came the reply, " I'm only looking at them Daddy. . . to see if they are wearing makeup!"  
  
Grissom rolled his eyes. Sara grinned her special grin at him again. "So, did you enjoy your morning at pre-school? Shall I sign you up for another one, or is the shame of being made to sit on the chair just too much?"  
  
Grissom's glare was her only answer.  
  
~Fin~ 


End file.
